


A Little Less Conversation (A Little More Misdirection)

by mizface



Series: djinn!Ray [8]
Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 06:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizface/pseuds/mizface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray didn’t bother looking up when the bell over the shop door tinkled softly, more interested in his find-a-word than potential customers.  The way he figured it, if they needed something they’d come to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Less Conversation (A Little More Misdirection)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to fan_flashworks. This version has been very slightly edited.

Ray didn’t bother looking up when the bell over the shop door tinkled softly, more interested in his find-a-word than potential customers. The way he figured it, if they needed something they’d come to him. And anyhow, considering the amount of snow that had been coming down all day, it was more likely they just wanted to warm up for a minute, not buy something. He couldn’t really blame them; while Chicago winters were nothing like what he’d endured at Fraser’s cabin, they were nothing to sneeze at. 

His theory was proved right when the person left a few minutes later without ever coming near the counter or even saying hello. Ray shivered as a bit of the outside chill made its way over to him and picked up his mug, taking a long drink of the smooth, piping hot mocha goodness. When that didn’t warm him enough he put down the ever-full mug and raised his hand slowly; the room temperature climbed until he snapped his fingers.

Fraser would have disapproved of the move, telling Ray he should put on something warmer than a threadbare t-shirt and jeans with holes in the knees if he was chilly. But Fraser wasn’t here, and it felt good to let off a little mystical steam.

Ray picked up his pen, then put it back down, bored. He was seriously considering closing up for the day when the door opened again, bringing in a tingle of familiarity along with the wind. Ray looked up, rolling his eyes when he saw who it was.

“You need something, Vecchio?” he asked in lieu of a real greeting. “Love charm, maybe? Or something to make that hair of yours grow back?”

“Very funny, Kowalski,” Vecchio growled as he closed the door, stuffing his knitted wool hat into his pocket and stomping his shoes to get off the worst of the snow. “I’m looking for Fraser – he here?”

“Does it look like he’s here?” Ray shot back with an insincere smile.

Vecchio glared. “Well, he isn’t at the Consulate, and he’s not at the station, so excuse me for taking a good guess and thinking he might be at his boyfriend’s crummy magic shop.”

Ray bit back a sharp reply at the insult, more interested in why Vecchio was there than trading barbs. Fraser was supposed to be at the Consulate, wasn’t he? He thought back, but didn’t remember Fraser saying about going anywhere special today when they’d had breakfast.

Vecchio prowled through the place same as he always did, complete with disapproving noises and eyerolls. He flipped through a book, pushed around a few runestones in a basket, and shook one of the cheesy snowglobes full of glitter shaped like tiny stars, wands and moons that Ray stocked especially for tourists as he made his way through the tiny store. 

As Vecchio wandered, Ray sent a tendril of energy out in Fraser’s direction, trying to pinpoint where the man was. He grinned a minute later when he found him, and sent a pulse of warmth through the connection before drawing the energy back in.

Satisfied Fraser was fine, Ray moved to straighten up where Vecchio had been. Not that anything was actually out of place; he just knew being followed like that bothered Vecchio, and that was pretty much all the reason Ray needed. He counted it a victory when Vecchio stopped touching his inventory, instead going over to pour himself a cup of the bad coffee Ray always kept brewing in the small office behind the counter. 

“Make yourself at home,” Ray said, arms wide and voice full of sarcasm.

Vecchio grimaced as he took a sip. “How can you stand to drink this crap?” he asked.

Thanks to his magic mug that was _never_ what Ray drank, but there was no way he was telling Vecchio that. “You want coffee, there’s a Starbucks on the corner,” Ray replied. “This is a magic shop.”

“So why don’t you just wave a wand and make this into something drinkable?” Vecchio taunted.

It took a lot of self-control, which was not Ray’s favorite thing, to not do just that. Only his promise to Fraser about using magic around ‘civilians’ stopped him.

A faint buzz in the air caught Ray’s attention. He sighed, the sound a mix of relief and disappointment. As fun as this was, it looked like the time for playing with Fraser’s partner was over.

“You think to try the park?” he asked Vecchio, snatching the mug from his hands before he could set it on the counter.

“You’re kidding me? In _that_?” Vecchio said, gesturing toward the window and the snowfall beyond it, which seemed to be getting heavier by the minute.

“Do you know _nothing_ about your partner?” Ray had to ask. “Weather like this pretty much guarantees he’ll be out in it. He lights up like it’s the first freaking day of summer.”

“The park.” Vecchio sighed heavily, looking down at his shoes. “I am not dressed for tromping around in the snow looking for a man making snow angels.” He sighed again and looked at his watch. “Maybe this can wait until tomorrow. Tell him to come by the station first thing.”

“Sure,” he agreed, wanting Vecchio out before things got… complicated. Still, he couldn’t resist one last thing. “And hey, tell Frannie the book she ordered is in, will you?”

Vecchio rubbed a hand over his face. “Tell me it’s not another love spell book.”

“It’s not another love spell book,” Ray lied cheerfully.

“Whatever, just, don’t let her buy any more of that weird incense, okay? The last stuff made the house stink for a week, and Ma gave her an earful.”

“I told her not to try that indoors,” Ray muttered, dropping onto the stool behind the counter with a thud. Aloud he said, “Fine, promise, no stinky stuff.” He didn’t add that the promise was because Fraser had asked the same thing. This way, Vecchio wouldn’t know if he meant it or not, and that was a hell of a lot more fun.

The energy buzzed again, louder this time; Ray made a show of peering out the window. “Better get home before it gets worse, unless you’re not worried about the Riv on the roads with all the morons who think they can drive in snow.”

Vecchio’s eyes widened, and Ray did a mental fistpump as Vecchio moved to the door, winding his scarf tighter around his neck and pulling on his hat. 

“Tomorrow,” he said, pointing a gloved finger at Ray. “Tell Fraser.”

“Tomorrow,” Ray repeated, pointing back. He made a shooting motion as soon as Vecchio was outside; the sign flipped to Closed, the lock clicked into place and the window shades rolled down. 

With a snap, a full-length mirror hovered in front of Ray. He stood up, straightening his pale blue silk tie and smoothing down his vest, a deep indigo that matched his suit pants. Then he checked the sapphire cufflinks on his crisp white shirt; a matching gem twinkled in each ear. He leaned closer to his reflection and picked a stray bit of glitter out of his hair, straightening just as he heard the chime on the back door ring.

Ray smiled, winked the mirror back out of existence, and went to greet his first real customer of the day.


End file.
